


The Little Glass Screwdriver

by ann2who



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Cheesy, Cinderella - Freeform, Cinderella AU, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, Hurt Tony Stark, Love at First Sight, M/M, Male Cinderella, Princes & Princesses, Protective Steve Rogers, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-10 03:50:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4376126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ann2who/pseuds/ann2who
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Prince Steven is forced to find himself a bride, true love gets in the way. As the night of the grand ball unfolds, the prince meets a mysterious knight who might just change his entire life in a way he could have never imagined.</p>
<p>**Cinderella AU**</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. “It happened that the prince gave a ball…”

**Author's Note:**

> This is inspired by a prompt from Anonymous (I love you, whoever you are):
> 
> “Cinderella!au where steve is the king who doesn't want to marry for anything but love, though his advisors are trying to force him to marry his princess peggy and he is almost resigned to that fate and he does love his, just not like that. And tony is the unappreciated son of a borderline abusive father that makes him work and then takes credit or something along those lines.... Tony sneaks into the engagement ball and bam bam fluff and dancing.”
> 
> The chapter titles are quotes from Perrault’s “Cinderella; or, The Little Glass Slipper”, which also has inspired the 1950s Disney movie.
> 
> A big sparkly glittering thank you goes to my wonderful beta-reader [morphia](http://archiveofourown.org/users/morphia/pseuds/morphia). You're the foot to my slipper and the fairy godmother to my wishes. <3 Kudos to [maplerosekisses](http://maplerosekisses.tumblr.com/) for the idea of who should be the Fairy Godmother, that was brilliant.
> 
> The fic is already finished and will have 3 chaps, which I'll post sometime within the next 1-2 weeks.
> 
> This is terribly cheesy, be warned. I hope you guys enjoy it ;-)

 

 

_18-December, 1697, Midgard – Western Hemisphere_

_My Lady and Friend,_

_I regret to inform you that the carriage sent to bring King Howard back to the royal palace has had a terrible accident and he, along with his wife and son, have tragically lost their lives. Please be assured that everything is being done to retrieve their bodies and bury them in their homeland. The royal army will return to the castle shortly. The king’s personal belongings have been recovered and brought here to Stark Castle._

_I am so very sorry, my Lady Sarah, I know that Howard and you have been close since childhood. This is a great tragedy for all of Midgard and I assure you that you and your family will have my support when it comes to succession to the throne._

_There is an open invitation to you, your husband and your son to join me here for the burial._

_Sincerely,_

_Lord Obadiah Stane_

_Steward of Stark Castle_

 

 

* * *

 

 

The garden around Prince Steven was filled with every color of the rainbow. There were red poppies, yellow wildflowers, miles and miles of green grass, and very blue skies. The smell of fresh water from the ponds and the sweet scent of the flowers filled the prince’s nose, calming the raging tide of emotions that brewed at the edges of his mind.

A canopy of pine trees kept him sheltered from the castle’s windows. It was his favorite clearing in the royal gardens and the only place where he did not feel watched, these days. It was mostly secluded from the more frequented parts of the garden; the grass wasn’t as neatly trimmed, as it was otherwise, the flowers just growing wherever they wanted. It was his own little sanctuary. The only place where he wasn’t followed around by one of his noblemen. Where he could breathe without choking on someone’s perfume and fake smiles.

And still. The sounds coming from the castle and wafting in the air around him made a heavy sigh escape the prince’s lips. The preparations for the great engagement ball were well underway, and it wouldn’t take much longer until the festivities would begin.

“Are you going to sit around here all day?”

Steve looked up from his sketchpad, smiling as his best friend Bucky sat down next to him. “I thought it was worth a try.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and crossed his arms on his knees. “I’m sure it won’t be that bad.”

Steve huffed, dropping the pad down on the grass. “And what makes you think that?”

“I don’t know… because I have _eyes_?” Bucky asked on a low laugh. “Come on, Stevie, I’ve seen Peggy and if I were you, I’d be all over her. And if all of the candidates look like that, you should call yourself one lucky man.”

Steve shook his head, smiling fondly at his friend.

“I mean it,” Bucky continued, unabashed. “If you’re really not interested, I’d be happy to take your place.”

“Sure you would,” Steve said quietly, before he turned his gaze back to the calming serenity of the garden.

Only a few days ago, his mother and the Council had decided that Steve had to get married at last. It wasn’t as if Steve hadn’t seen it coming. By law, he would only get to be king if he found himself a queen. And Steve knew, with the many years of war behind them, the royal family had to give a strong signal of hope to the people.

So he had eventually agreed to host a ball in which all of the Kingdom’s eligible young women were invited. His mother had suggested inviting only nobles, and then only beautiful young women, but Steve had decided against it. At the very least, everyone, men and women alike, should enjoy the king’s hospitality for the duration of the ball… even if Steve would have to choose a lady of royal status in the end.

“I hear even Lord Stane is going to be in attendance tonight?” Bucky asked, obviously trying to get Steve to lighten up and not worry so much. “People are really excited about that. He was a good friend of your mother once, wasn’t he?”

“I suppose so,” Steve said, frowning. His mother had never called Stane a ‘good friend’. She’d been close to King Howard, as far as Steve knew, but Stane had barely been a regular acquaintance.

“Maybe he’ll bring one of his inventions along. I’ve never seen one up close! Have you?”

“No,” Steve replied as he continued to stare out into the landscape. “He hasn’t been at court in years.”

Lord Stane had served as King Howard’s armorer for many decades. His weapons were the best ones in all Midgard and therefore world-famous, making Lord Stane one of the wealthiest lords of all Midgard. Even after the terrible accident that had cost the life of the whole royal family, Stane’s inventions kept amazing the whole Kingdom.

It had been one of the greatest tragedies in history—at least as long as Steve could remember. King Howard had always been loved and admired by his people, and what he had lacked in empathy and kindness, he had compensated with his marvelous inventions and weaponry.

When King Howard and his whole family, Queen Maria and Prince Anthony, had died, the Kingdom had been devastated. Dark times had followed; wars and uprisings in the smaller counties. The line of succession to the throne had not been clear, though Steve’s family had had the best claims and the most supporters. Still. It had taken years before Steve’s father had been crowned king. Tragically, he had died of some strong form of influenza only a few years later, and it was now Steve’s turn to become king.

Whether he wanted to or not.

“I guess you bring out the good in people,” Bucky replied smiling. “Rumor has it he’ll even offer one of his noble ladies to you.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “How do you know that?”

Bucky grinned wolfishly. “Nat intercepted the messenger when he delivered Stanes agreement to attend the ball. Apparently, he tried to find out everything about our ‘Prince Charming’ in the process. Looks to me like he’s interested in finding you a suitable queen.”

“Well, he needs to queue up, then,” Steve said bitterly.

“How can you honestly complain about any of this?” Bucky asked, clearly exasperated. “Every pretty girl in the whole Kingdom will come here and they will all want to be your wife. How can you not be thrilled about this?”

Steve inhaled deeply, smiling as he released the cleansing breath. “I’ve just… I had hoped to one day find true love, but I guess that was a stupid thing to wish for.”

Bucky’s features softened. “There is still time for love,” he told Steve. “You like Peggy, don’t you? I’m sure if you choose her, she’ll see to that.”

Steve chuckled softly. “I _love_ Peggy. Just not like that. Real love is passion and… a burning in your soul that tells you you’d give _everything_ to be with the other. Love is mysterious and overwhelming, and it leaves you breathless. It’s something everyone should deserve the chance to experience.”

Bucky heaved a long breath and laid down on the green grass, staring up the sky. “You’re a hopeless romantic, Stevie. A better man than me, but… completely hopeless.”

Steve cast him a gentle smile, and his eyes travelled to the sky as well.

He knew, deep down, that this was necessary. The Kingdom needed a strong king, someone they could look up to in times of need. He knew that an alliance with a wealthy noble house would help rebuild some of the damage done by decades of war.

The marriage would form a powerful force—and apart from his wish for true love, Steve also knew that affairs of Kingdom would always come before the affairs of the heart.

 

* * *

 

“The guests have arrived, Sire.”

Steve turned, smiling at his groom Jarvis before pulling himself away from the window. Jarvis had been a member of the royal household longer than anyone could even remember. He had been one of the closest confidents of King Howard and Steve considered the old man one of his dearest friends.

With a last lingering look towards the garden, Steve walked over to his large mirror and took stance so that Jarvis could dress him properly.

“How often do I have to tell you to call me Steve,” Steve said, smiling as the man nodded, just like he always did.

“Anything you wish, Sire.”

Steve huffed, and shook his head. “What I _wish_ is to be in a faraway land, miles away from all these people waiting for me downstairs,” he said dramatically as Jarvis helped him slip into his white tailored jacket.

“Well, at least the ladies look very beautiful, if I might say so.”

“I’m sure they do,” Steve told him quietly as Jarvis draped the purple cloak around his shoulders. He made to grab for a brush for Steve’s hair, but stopped as a light knock on the door was heard.

“Are you ready?”

Steve turned, smiling as the Queen entered his chamber. She was wearing a black dress. The fabric was silky and brimming with pattern of small, graceful white roses. “You look wonderful, mother.”

“As do you, my dear,” she said smiling. “I had hoped we could talk a little but it seems every woman in the country has decided to show early.” She laughed slightly. “I’m sure they all want a chance at marrying the most handsome prince in the land.”

Steve’s smile fell as he stared at his mirror-reflection. “Whether or not the prince actually wants that, yes…”

His mother sighed, and Steve knew it was unfair of him to make her feel guilty. It wasn’t her choice either. “I know this isn’t how you wanted to marry, sweetheart. I’m truly sorry. If I could, I would do anything to let you have that chance at finding someone on your own.”

Steve sighed, too. He had always known a marriage without love was going to be his fate; he just never imagined it would hurt so much. “I know the Kingdom is in greater need. Don’t worry. I will try to flatter all ladies in attendance.”

Sarah bit her lower lip, clearly trying not to laugh at that. “Of course you will…” … _try_ , she probably wanted to say. They all knew that Steve had a hard time flirting. He wasn’t as awkward and stammering as he had been only a few years ago, but he’d never quite learned the art of charming people.

Didn’t mean his mother had to rub it in like that.

Sarah leaned in and kissed his cheek. “I have to go,” she told him. “We will start the audiences as soon as you are ready.”

Steve watched as his mother left his room, wondering—not for the first time—how he was going to make it through an entire evening listening to Lord after Lord tell him why his daughter would be best suited to be his wife.

                                                                 

* * *

 

Steve stood at the top of the stairs, staring down at all the guests mingling in the banquet hall. His stomach was in knots as he waited to be announced.

“You’ll do _fine_ ,” Natasha said next to him. She was the only woman in his king’s guard, and also one of his closest friends.

“What,” Steve asked, straining his neck to get a better view of the room, “you mean it’s too late to run?”

Natasha chuckled. “Not necessarily,” she said and leaned up to whisper in his ear, just as the musicians raised their horns. “I hear Lord Stane has a really fast carriage.”

Steve snorted, then straightened his back as he made to follow his guards. The horns signaled his arrival as he paused at the balcony for a moment, before slowly making his way down the stairs. All eyes were on him and the pressure alone was almost more than he could take.

As far as he could see, all of the big houses had followed his invitation, every known sigil of the noble houses on display, but he was pleased to see that there were also some more, well, ordinary looking young people around. They looked a bit out of place within the extravagant dressed crowd, but seemed to be having fun nevertheless, and that was all that mattered.

Steve smiled in spite of his nervousness, but the dread he was feeling at choosing a lady who would rule the land with him only got worse. The rules were clear: He would meet everyone, then select a few ladies to dance with him. Then he would get a few days to decide which of them he’d marry, and pay them a visit at their own castle to announce their engagement.

“Lords and ladies,” his herald Sam announced, “Prince Steven, heir to the throne and future King of Midgard.”

Steve smiled brightly as he was introduced to all in attendance, stopping as he reached the reception line where the noble houses had already lined up for the audience. He could already hear the ladies giggling among themselves, and all but forced himself to curtsy each of them, before he was joined by his mother.

They stood on top of the lower stairs, right in front of Steve’s throne, waiting for Sam to introduce each house.

“Your Majesty,” Sam said. “May I present the Duke and Duchess Carter and their daughter, the Lady Margaret.”

Sarah and Steve both nodded their heads as the three bowed. Peggy looked beautiful in her yellow gown, with red lips, and brown, curly hair that was pinned accurately on top of her head. She cast Steve a small and decidedly exasperated smile, making him grin in return.

“Your Majesty, it’s a pleasure to meet you again,” she said in an obviously mocking tone that made Steve want to kneel down and hug her tightly. Her smile was genuine and her voice always held a kindness that he had yet to hear from any of the other women present.

All eyes were on Steve and whispers were heard as each lady was introduced. By the end of it, Steve was barely listening anymore as the last houses in line were called up. There wasn’t a single woman that held a spark of interest to him. The only lady even bold enough to speak for herself had always been Peggy, and while Steve loved her dearly, it just wasn’t like that between them.

Still. Peggy was the only one that was interested in _him_ and not the crown she would be receiving, and at the end of the day, he knew he’d choose her. If he truly had to marry for the sake of his Kingdom, Peggy was the one he trusted most. And even if his noblemen would be giving him a hard time about her house not bringing enough wealth into the marriage—well, Steve would give them a piece of his mind.

Peggy would be a wonderful Queen, kind to his people and loved by many, and that was all that was important.

Only as Sam called up House Stane, Steve’s eyes widened. He hadn’t seen Lord Stane in person before—there had only been the fantastic stories about his many marvelous inventions. Seeing him now, though, he didn’t look anything like the slightly crazy but all the more interesting genius that Steve had always envisioned. Stane’s eyes were cold as he regarded Steve, and the pleased smile around his lips seemed fake. On his left side stood a younger man with brown hair and a crooked grin, and on the other a redheaded young woman who looked very uncomfortable, like she didn’t even want to be here.

Steve could fully relate to that.

“My Queen, my Prince,” the man said, ignoring Sam completely, who had taken a deep breath to introduce them. Instead, he simply reached for Steve’s hand and shook it with a sweetly smile. “I am Lord Stane, and this is my son Ezekiel. My Queen, it has been far too long. Your Majesty, we are deeply honored to finally make your acquaintance. Since I don’t have a female heir of my own to present to you, I would like you to meet the Lady Virginia, who, as I assure you, is the most beautiful and well-mannered noble lady of my household.”

“I am sure of that,” Steve said, bowing his head slightly as he looked at Virginia. She really _was_ beautiful. She was wearing a cream-colored dress, trimmed in blue ruffle. The waist was tight, and the skirt flowed beautifully over a small bustle. “I do pray you like it here?”

“Yes, quite so,” Virginia said with a small smile. “The invitation just came a bit unexpected.”

The words were out of her mouth before she had really thought them through. Steve could see it in the sudden tenseness of her small shoulders, and the nervous glance she cast at her lord, whose expression had suddenly darkened a fraction.

“I do beg your forgiveness, your Majesty,” Lord Stane addressed the Queen. “I hope that the absence of a noble suitor will not decrease our chances in negotiating for your son’s hand.”

Steve almost begged his mother not to pick her, then and there. He was sure Virginia was a nice enough girl, he just wasn’t sure what it was about Lord Stane—but something seemed very off about him.

His mother, however, returned the smile in kind. “Of course your place in the negotiations is secure. Every lady in attendance will be considered. I am very happy that you chose to come here, my Lord, it truly has been far too long since we’ve seen you at court,” she told him and even accepted Lord Stane’s hand for the first official dance. It was clear that she was doing it for the sake of the noblemen, who were all hoping that Steve would forge a strong alliance with House Stane, bringing the royal court back to the wealth it had had before the long war.

Steve took a deep breath, as he made his way to the throne, taking his seat. He smiled tightly as music began to fill the Banquet Hall and the feast was brought forward. He looked around the room as everyone took their seats. The dread of the evening began to ease a little since Steve knew the worst part was now over. The union would be at his sole discretion, and at least, he wouldn’t have to have an answer right away.

 

* * *

 

Steve was watching intently as his mother spoke with Lord Stane. He was currently dancing with Peggy, swaying her around the Banquet hall. He only caught glimpses of their conversation, but a fear was creeping up his spine, nevertheless.

“Your Majesty, I can assure you the continued support of my house will be infinitely secured,” Lord Stane promised. “With your army, and my weapons, the Kingdom would be able to crush every foe. We could bring peace to all Midgard. As a wedding gift, I would present you with the _Iron Monger_ , a state-of-the-art suit of armor for your knights that is built from an exceedingly heavy metal and offers unparalleled protection.”

“I have infinite trust in your marvelous inventions, my Lord,” his mother said, then cleared her throat. “I must admit that I had thought those inventions would cease to amaze our Kingdom after King Howard’s unfortunate demise. But it seems I have not given your part in the creating process enough credit.”

Lord Stane’s smile turned even sweeter than it had before. “It seems so, your Grace.”

Steve took a shaky breath as he regarded the contemplative look on his mother’s face. What if his mother would be trying to convince him of Stane as the most suitable alliance? He knew that the benefits from a marriage to House Stane outweighed Steve’s personal doubts by far…

The music slowly came to an end, and Steve smiled as he glanced back up at Peggy.

“You look unhappy, my Lord,” Peggy said with a small, worried smile and squeezed Steve’s hand.

Steve shook his head lightly. “It’s not you, Peg, it’s—”

“—I know,” she interrupted and leaned in to press a small kiss on his cheek. “You know you don’t have to explain anything to me.”

“Thank you,” Steve whispered, then raised his voice. “…for the dance, my Lady,” he added, bowing as he pressed a small kiss on the back of her hand. “I do hope to get to speak to you again, soon.”

“Yes, that would be quite wonderful, your Majesty,” Peggy said with a wink and turned away from him.

He spotted his king’s guard at the other side of the hall and made his way through the crowd. Sam laughed slightly as Steve all but collapsed against the wall, trying to hide behind Thor’s bulky form. Bucky, who was leaning against Natasha and sporting a huge grin, said, “You seem to be having a wonderful time, Stevie.”

“Why does the sky not ever open up when you need it to?” Steve asked as he stopped in front of his friends. He took off his heavy crown and the purple cloak and handed both to Sam. Now that the official part of the ball was over, he might as well have a little fun.

“What's wrong, Sire? The company of every woman in the country's too much for you?” Natasha asked slyly.

“Yes,” Steve said without hesitation.

“Well, what about Peggy? She seemed to enjoy her dance.”

“Yes, well, she is also still not in love with me.”

“And the Lady Virginia?” Thor asked. “She would make a worthy queen. And her beauty alone should make you rejoice. Just think of the wedding night, my friend.”

Sam and Thor laughed loudly, the look on Steve’s face seemingly worth more laughs than they had had in a while.

“I think he’s turning a little green,” Natasha said through a quiet laughter.

“I’d rather marry…” Steve started, looking around the room and just… _stopping_.

Steve’s breath caught in his throat as his eyes locked in on a knight who had just entered the room at the far side of the banquet hall. He was wearing some fancy looking red-and-gold suit of armor and even from afar, the many overlapping steel plates and rivets looked very elegant. And there was a blue circle of light forged into the armor’s chest plate. The knight wasn’t part of the noble houses, as far as Steve could tell; the colors of his armor didn’t belong to any of the known sigils.

The knight’s helmet was off, showing his dark hair, curling wildly on top of his head. The sharp line of his cheekbones gave him an almost roguish look, which was accentuated by one of the most extravagant facial hairstyles that Steve had ever seen.

Steve could tell just from looking at him that the knight wasn’t a very large man, with a slender figure, and shoulders that were broad in contrast to the slimming of his waist and hips.

Steve blushed as the knight caught him staring and hid his heated cheeks as he ducked his head. When Steve looked up again a few moments later, though, the knight was still very much looking at him. His gaze was now unashamedly travelling all over Steve’s body—and Steve wasn’t sure why his heart seemed to speed up as he took in the man’s features himself, but what he saw there had Steve’s breath coming faster.

As the knight suddenly turned around and walked towards the gardens, Steve’s mouth opened as if to call out for him.

“Uh, Steve?” Bucky said as Steve made to follow without so much as another word.

“I have to, uh… take a walk, get a bit of fresh air,” Steve mumbled, and ignored every offer of company as he made his way through the crowds. A few ladies tried to get his attention, but Steve only had eyes for the man who cast him one last lingering look, before he stepped out into the royal gardens.

Steve forced himself to calm down a step as he rounded the corner. At first, he didn’t see anyone on the patio, no other guests—thankfully—but also not the mystery-knight. Steve looked around frantically, and he experienced a sudden, full-body shiver when a deep husky voice rumbled in his ear.

“Are you enjoying the evening?”

Steve knew immediately that it was _him,_ and he was both excited and scared of turning around. Steve’s heart thundered in his chest and sent his pulse racing. Standing tall, he suddenly wished for his crown as he gathered his bearings before facing the man behind the voice.

Steve knew it was his turn to say something, but instead, he only gave the knight a gaping and very unkingly stare. It took his brain a moment to process what he was seeing and then, when it did, he was left devoid of speech.

The glimpse of the man from across the room hadn’t prepared Steve for the impact of his presence; the way his eyes bore into Steve’s like he could see right into his soul. The way he looked at Steve made the world disappear until there was just the two of them.

The first thing that Steve took in was the color of the man’s eyes. A deep brown, with black speckles, he noticed and committed them to memory. He’d thought the man was handsome from afar, but now that he was right in front of him, _facing_ him, Steve realized he was nothing short of the most attractive man he had ever met.

Steve’s knees almost buckled when the knight took his hand and drew it to his mouth, kissing it without taking his eyes off of Steve’s. And—oh God, Steve couldn’t believe his body’s response. With the most innocent of gestures, the man made him feel more than anyone else ever had. And what that gesture elicited in Steve was anything but innocent.

_Well,_ Steve thought belatedly—and probably a bit hysterically—that might explain why he had never truly felt like getting a girlfriend.

 

* * *

 

_One day earlier. The Stane Household._

 

“Tony!” a voice bellowed.

Sighing, Tony dropped his favorite glass screwdriver down on his worktable. _Great_. He had no fucking clue what he had done wrong this time.

He looked down at Rhodey—his beautiful black Rhodesian Ridgeback—and petted his head. “What do _you_ think Old Grumpy wants this time, huh?”

Rhodey cocked his head, staring at Tony exasperatedly, as if he wanted to say, _Well, I’m a dog. How would I know?_

“TONY!”

“I’m coming. Oh, my fucking God,” Tony mumbled and hurriedly made his way down the small stairwell. His workshop was situated in the highest tower of Stane Castle and it always took a minute or two to climb down to his chamber. When he arrived, Obadiah stood next to Tony’s small rusty bed with a half-empty glass of scotch in his hand. His features were twisted into a grotesque frown and his eyes were glassy, a sure sign of how much he had been drinking.

“Anthony,” he spat out—using his full name now, which was always a bad sign, “would you care to explain why there is wine spilled across my six hundred gold oriental rug?”

Tony could almost hear the warning bells ring in his head. There obviously was no answer to this without getting himself into more trouble. He knew _exactly_ how wine had gotten spilled on the goddamn rug, but that didn’t help him at all. These kinds of things were always blamed on him, which was a bit funny since he didn’t even drink.

“How would I know, Obi. Maybe Zeke accidentally—”

“Oh, so now you think you are going to blame this on my son?” Obadiah laughed humorlessly. “Right, try again.”

_Oh God._ Tony was in Hell. It was the only explanation for all of this. “But it wasn’t me. I don’t even drink—”

“Ezekiel said you stole a bottle of my finest yesterday,” he told him, twisting an empty wine bottle in his hand as if that was any sort of proof. “It seems we have time on our hands, don’t we?”

“You _believe_ that drunk loser?” _Uh-oh_ … that was the wrong thing to say.

The next second, Obi threw the bottle at the wall, shattering the glass all over Tony’s chamber. “What? As opposed to believing you, you little liar?!”

“I’m not a liar!” Tony shouted at him. God, he was so _sick_ of taking the fall for Zeke and his stupid-ass loser-existence.

Obi slammed down his glass on the desk and didn’t even seem to notice the shards as he stomped towards Tony. He slapped him across the cheekbone so hard that Tony fell down on the hardwood floor. “This is how you thank me? I take you in after your sorry excuse of a father almost got you killed! I open my house to you and this is how you show your gratitude? I should have left you in that carriage to die with him!”

Tony raised his hand to his cheek and tried to not let it show when the throbbing pain all but exploded in his face. He was used to being beaten. No need to cry over that, anymore. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, closing his eyes in defeat.

“Well, it’s too late for that,” Obadiah spat. “You go to your workshop and work on the damn armor, boy! I want it presentable for the Queen by tomorrow!”

Tony blanched. “ _Tomorrow?_ But you said I could go to the ball!”

It had been his only wish. The only thing he’d wanted for himself in a long time. He might be insulting the royal family on a daily basis, with all their perfect glitz and glamour lifestyle, but he’d _wished_ … with all his heart, to just… _be_ there with all of the other young people, if only for one evening.

In hindsight… the fact that Obi had agreed to let him go, no questions asked, should’ve made Tony more skeptical.

A calculating and cruel smile took hold of Obadiah’s face, making every last doubt fly out the window that he’d even considered for one second to actually let Tony attend the ball. “That was before you spoiled my favorite carpet. Now get out of my face. And clean the damn carpet first!”

Tony swallowed and scrambled off the floor. He almost stumbled up the stairs to his workshop, careful not to slam the door even though he desperately wanted to. That would just set Obi off again and he didn’t need a black eye to go with his swollen cheek.

He had learned quickly what not to do in regards to his stepfather. Don’t slam doors, don’t talk back or argue, do what he asks of you, and otherwise—don’t even exist. And most of the time, he felt like a ghost. Sometimes he wouldn’t even leave his workshop for days. Of course, that hadn’t stopped Obi or Zeke from accusing him of breaking something in the living quarters whenever they needed someone to blame.

Tony couldn’t even recall the first time Obi had hit him anymore, but he probably hadn’t been older than five. It must have been sometime in the first weeks after Tony’s family had died in that carriage accident during a storm at night. Obi had told him the story numerous times. How his father, some drunken farmer, had steered the carriage right off a cliff and killed not only himself, but also his wife, and very nearly also Tony. Obi had found him there, barely an infant, and taken him home to his castle. Tony would always be grateful for this single act of mercy, although Obi had showed little compassion since.

God, he had to get out of this place. He was rotting away in the white marble Hell of Stane Castle and he feared the future when Obi would lose his temper completely with him. For now, he was still of use, providing Obi with new machines, new weapons, new armory. It made Obi one of the wealthiest lords in all Midgard, and as long as Tony came up with further inventions, he was safe.

Safe, yes, but he might as well be dead, if this was how the rest of his life would be like.

Sitting down on the cold stone floor, Tony leaned a bit against Rhodey’s warm body, scratching the dog’s ears, and stared up at the face of the Iron Monger, his newest creation. The knight’s armor was far too bulky for Tony’s own liking, and too crammed with all sorts of heavy weapons. It had none of the sleekness Tony preferred in his designs, but Obi had been very clear on what he wanted for his wedding gift to the royal family.

Still… Tony thought with a smile and glanced to a dark corner all across the room, where a similar and yet very different armor was standing underneath a white cloth… Obi had never been good with thinking outside the box.

Not like Tony.

As if to rebuke him for his arrogance, the Royal Palace’s clocktower chimed loudly outside.

“Oh, not you, too,” Tony ground out, and begrudgingly stared out of the tiny window that only brought a few rays of sunlight into his workshop. It was barely large enough to get a glimpse of the giant white castle far beyond the great river—and what Tony felt right then definitely wasn’t disappointment.

“Didn’t really want to go to the stupid ball, anyway,” he murmured and Rhodey promptly answered him with a sloppy lick all across Tony’s cheek.

 

* * *

 

“He did _what?_ ” Tony asked with an incredulous tone, from where he was still scrubbing the damn wine out of the damn carpet in the castle’s main hall.

Pepper, who was usually so in control of herself, was crying in earnest, opening her mouth to speak a couple of times before breaking into tears once more. She was walking up and down the hallway, the prince’s invitation crumpled in her tiny hands as she waved it back and forth in front of her face, as if she’d faint if she didn’t fan herself with it.

Tony heaved a deep breath and threw the filthy rag in his hands aside. Then he walked up to her, taking her shaking hands in his. “Pep, darling, you need to talk to me.”

“The ball,” she hiccupped, “the one that—”

Tony waited for her to go on, but when the tremors got the better of her voice again, he continued patiently, “—the one that’s supposed to find our spoiled little prince a princess? Yeah, I’m aware of the damn ball. What about it?”

Pepper shook her head in despair. “Obadiah will offer the prince weapons and gold if…” She took a shaky breath, “if he takes me as his wife.”

Well, _fuck_. That was unexpected.

Tony sighed. Of course, Pepper was heartbroken. A few months ago, she had fallen head-over-heals in love with Happy, one of Obi’s guards. They had been planning to marry as soon as they had saved enough money, which would probably take another year or two, but they’d been so goddamn happy… And it was just like Obi to take that happiness and stomp it right into the ground.

“He wants more influence,” Tony said with a subdued voice. He had always secretly wondered why Obadiah didn’t mingle with the court more often. With his wealth and the popularity that Tony’s inventions provided him with, he would’ve been able get a seat in the king’s council easily. It seemed, though, that Obi had waited for the right time. Marrying someone from your own household to the king? There simply wasn’t a better move. With Pepper under his thumb, he’d be one of the most powerful men in the Kingdom—maybe even more powerful than the king himself.

This goddamn _ball_. Tony still couldn’t believe that the queen had decided to throw a huge ball with all the single women in the kingdom in attendance, just so that the prince could find a wife. Couldn’t the guy find a girl by himself? It was pretty pathetic, if you asked Tony.

From what he’d heard, the prince was handsome enough to get a marriage proposal without all the arrangement, but seeing how he needed one, it made Tony wonder if there was something seriously wrong with the guy.

Pepper looked at him with new tears in her eyes. “You need to come to the ball, Tony, _please_ ,” she said, cradling the invitation close to her chest. “Obadiah won’t let me out of his sight, I know it. Maybe _you_ can talk to the prince. Make him understand…”

“Understand what?” Tony asked with a slight laugh. “That Obi’s an ass? That you’re in love with someone else? Why should someone like the prince care about that? And even so… Obi won’t ever let me go to the ball, Pep. I’m the golden goose, remember? He can’t risk having anyone find out I even exist. It was stupid of me to even believe for a second that he’d let me go just for the sake of it.”

“I know you have your ways,” Pepper said with fierce conviction. “I’ve seen you and James sneak out regularly—”

“—out into the forests to get a bit of fresh air, yes. The royal palace is half a day’s journey away.” Tony sighed, rubbing his forehead. “And Obi’s carriage is the fastest of all Midgard, I personally saw to that. I would need something a lot faster if I wanted to make it back in time here, and the chance of that is practically zero.”

Pepper’s face fell, and she looked on the verge of new tears again.

Tony groaned, his shoulders dropping. “All right, please don’t cry. I’ll see what I can do.”


	2. “You would like to go to the ball, would you not?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the lovely comments <3 I hope you'll enjoy the next parts *throws pixie dust around*

Tony was hunched over his workshop table, with Rhodey sleeping soundly at his feet. His fingers trailed idly over the little metal circle in front of him, as a deep sigh left his lips.

It was a steam turbine—or well, lets say it was on its way to becoming a steam turbine. He’d created his first version a few months ago to improve Obi’s carriage. It had been huge and far too loud, but it was also the first device in all Midgard to use the power of steam to produce mechanical work. It had the potential of making the daily life of everyone in the Kingdom so much easier. That was, of course, if Obi would ever actually let anyone know about the turbine and not just use it for himself.

Still, even with Tony’s genius, remodeling that big, clunky engine so it would fit in Iron Man’s chest piece took time. He’d never attempted to make it this small before, and he’d figured he’d have all the time he needed to work on it. However, Obi, Zeke and Pepper had left for the ball hours ago—and while he made good progress with getting the smaller steam cylinders to work, it wouldn’t be enough.

He needed more time.

Or a really big miracle.

Tony knew, if he wanted to go to the ball and come back home before Obi did, he _had_ to use Iron Man, test phase be damned. And he needed to do it now. A carriage just wouldn’t do and unlike Iron Monger, Iron Man wasn’t just the better version of a knight’s armor. It was _much_ more than that. When Tony was done with it, it would be indestructible, highly weaponized, and he would be able to run miles and miles with it, his feet never once slowing down.

It was his ticket out of this place. As soon as Pepper was married to Happy and far _far_ away from Obi’s blackmailing, Tony would take Rhodey and leave this place for good.

Outside, the palace’s clocktower chimed again, louder and louder still. Tony stared out of the small window, grumbling. It wouldn’t be much longer now and every young man and woman would be arriving at the royal castle and have the time of their lives.

Everyone but Tony.

Tony put his head on his working table, heaving a sigh. Even worse, he would let Pepper down. She would be married to the royal-pain-in-the-ass and live an unhappy life. And it would be Tony’s fault.

Rhodey looked up and licked a stripe across Tony’s fingers as he idly played with the dog’s muzzle.

“It’s just no use, buddy,” he told the dog quietly, and forced back those tears that threatened to spill across his cheek. He was still such a child sometimes. “No use at all. There’s nothing left to believe in this world. _Nothing_.”

“Nothing? Well. That seems a bit dramatic, don’t you think?” a gentle voice asked.

Suddenly, Tony’s forehead wasn’t lying on his cold worktable anymore, but on a decidedly warm thigh. Tony blinked and did a double-take as he stumbled backwards and stared up at… at…

“What the _hell?_ ”

The man in front of him grinned crookedly, ignoring Rhodey’s low growling. He wore some sort of strange looking uniform; a black jacket with a white shirt underneath, black pants, a black ribbon tied around his neck and a very serious look on his face. He had little hair on his head and white, fair skin.

“Is that how you greet your Fairy Godfather?” the man asked.

Tony stumbled back in horror, falling down on the floor as he tried to bring as much space between him and this… _thing_. “Fairy—Are you _kidding_ me?”

“Well, I hope not. Otherwise you sure as hell won’t make it to that ball.”

Were fairies even allowed to curse, Tony wondered a little hysterically, before he realized what the man—the _f-a-i-r-y_ —was saying. “The _ball?_ I’m not—”

“Of course you are. My name’s Phil Coulson, by the way, I work for S.H.I.E.L.D, Fairy Godparents Inc., and we’ll have to hurry. Even miracles take a little time, you know?”

“Miracles?” Tony echoed and stared disbelievingly at Rhodey, who was now sitting next to the man, wagging his tail happily. The fucking traitor.

Phil regarded Tony’s filthy clothing, his stained cheeks and messy hair with visible discontent. “Well, you definitely need one if you want to go to a royal ball tonight. So, what in the world did I do with that magic wand? I was sure I—”

“Magic wand?” Tony’s eyes must’ve been as wide as saucers. “You’ve got to be kidding me. I must’ve hit my head, or I finally fell down that goddamn tower, I—”

“Not really,” the fairy dismissed with a wave of his hand. “That’s strange… I—God, Fury is gonna kill me. I _never_ —Oh, right! I put it away, here…” Phil cleared his throat and rummaged in one of the pockets of his strange black suit jacket. The pocket was fairly small, and when he suddenly pulled out a ten inches wand, Tony could only stare at him.

This was really happening, was it? He’d somehow managed to summon a goddamn _fairy_ and it was going to do magic things. Tony _hated_ magic. The guy would probably put a hex on Tony and he’d have to spend the rest of his life as a mouse or something.

“Now, where were we,” the fairy continued, unaware of Tony’s inner hysteria. He stood up from his place on Tony’s work-table and gave the room a thoughtful one-over. “Hm, normally we do this with something like… a pumpkin.”

_A what?_ Tony yelled inwardly and tried not to let it show how _deeply_ _not okay_ he was with all of this. “I don’t have any pumpkins up here.”

The fairy turned around, smiling mildly. “So I’ve noticed. But you can’t very well go to a ball in those rags, can you?”

“Uh,” Tony said unintelligibly. “No?”

“Exactly!” the fairy agreed. “So, you clearly need a knight’s armor, something very shiny, to bewitch that prince of yours, right?”

Tony felt his cheeks heat. “I don’t want to _bewitch_ anyone! I just need to talk to him…”

“Oh, I’m sure you do,” Phil said with an amount of amusement in his voice that really didn’t sit well with Tony.

“And besides,” Tony continued and made to walk across the room. He took hold of the huge linen cloth that had hid the Iron Man suit from Obi so far, revealing it to the fairy. “The armor isn’t the problem. Getting to the ball in time is.”

“Oh.” The fairy’s eyebrows rose with visible surprise. He walked over to Tony, setting a finger on the armor’s chestplate, right next to the metal casing in the middle, where the steam engine was supposed to be by now. “Well,” Phil said with wonder in his voice. “That certainly is something I can work with.” He smiled down at Tony with something close to pride. Then he tipped his scary magical white wand-thing on the turbine lying on the table. “I’d say it just needs a little more… power. Don’t you think?”

Tony’s brows furrowed. “Power? This is the strongest engine I’ve ever built. And it will be wired all over the suit. Once it’s finished, it can run faster than any carriage.”

“Run?” the fairy said on a wink. “Why would you want to run, if you can… _fly_?”

There was a long pause. Tony blinked. Then, he started laughing. “Yeah, buddy, um, do you have the sort of knowledge of how these things work? Fly? Honestly? This is a suit of _metal_.”

“Look young man,” the fairy said with a scowl and waved the wand in Tony’s direction. “You might be a genius, and not a very humble one, I might add, but I. Am. A. Goddamn. _Fairy_. What does that tell you?”

Tony swallowed, taking back step after step until his back hit the next wall. “That it’s a bit of a bummer that you’re not a busty blonde in a frilly white dress?”

The fairy rolled his eyes. “Look, young man, I’ve been in this business for centuries, alright? I know perfectly well what this needs. Now… the magic words… uh, right.” He cleared his throat, and looked at Tony with a visible cringe in his expression. “I like you, so I’m gonna warn you in advance: This is always a little awkward. It’s the company’s guidelines… S.H.I.E.L.D. takes these things very seriously—you know, to promote our brand name. No miracle without the magic words.”

“Magic words…” Tony echoed slowly.

And at that, the fairy heaved a great breath and started to actually—and Tony could not fucking believe his ears— _sing_.

_Sala-Hadoola-Inchicka-Eee-La Dibbidi-dobbidi-doo._

_Put 'em together and what have you got?_

_Dibbidi-dobbidi-doo…_

It went on like that for a while. Phil didn’t move around much, only reciting the song as if it pained him to do so, which—seriously—Tony understood very well. And all the while, Tony could only stare at his surroundings as the fairy waved his wand around and magically cast tube after tube, cylinder after cylinder, and cog wheel after cog wheel right into Tony’s beautiful Iron Man armor. Everything was just goddamn _flying_ across the room, with blue fairy dust everywhere, and the armor’s plates opening up as if happily swallowing whatever the fairy put into it. And Tony. Just. Couldn’t. Believe. This. Was. Happening.

By the end of it all, Iron Man didn’t look all that different. The only thing that had changed was the steam turbine. In the middle of the armor, it was now shining so brightly that Tony almost couldn’t stand to look at it.

“What did you do?” Tony asked with awe in his voice as he approached the armor.

The fairy chuckled. “I made you a flying suit. Your attention span isn’t all that great, is it?”

“Uh-huh,” Tony murmured. God. Up close, he saw how much actually _had_ changed. The steel plates were forged a lot finer now—way finer than Tony ever could’ve managed up here in this fucking tower with Obi’s crappy equipment. There were artful golden patterns all over the red plates, and the tubes and wires were now hidden beneath. It looked… God, Tony couldn’t even look at it. It was _beautiful_. Sleek, and elegant and everything Tony had certainly never been in his life.

Rhodey was tippling in front of the armor, and looked up excitedly at Tony.

“What did you do?” Tony whispered as he put a hand on the chest-plate’s middle. The light was all but vibrating beneath his fingers.

“Um,” Phil said on an eye roll. “Magic? I’m a _fairy_. You get the concept, right?”

Tony heaved a shaky breath. “Well yeah, I mean, _thank you_. This is great and I totally owe you, but this looks almost like an electric field, some sort of magnet right? I mean—”

“Stop it right there!” the fairy all but yelled, then cleared his throat and stepped back. “It’s magic, okay?! That’s all you need to know.” He looked down on the table next to Tony and picked up the little glass screwdriver. He inspected it for a second, and a small knowing smile rushed to his lips. “You should take it with you. It’s the key.”

Tony frowned. “The screwdriver? Oh no, it’s nothing special. I just need it to open the thing up. Look…” He pointed towards the turbine. The suit’s whole frame was linked right into its center, and one turn with the screwdriver opened the whole thing up at once. The mechanism was one-of-a-kind, although it looked much smoother now. Usually Pepper had to assist him in putting certain parts together, but this time, everything worked seamlessly.

The fairy smiled. “That’s very impressive. And speaking of which… don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“Oh, right,” Tony supplied weakly, suddenly very nervous. With a heavy breath, he took the screwdriver in his hands and shoved the tip in the middle of the blue circle. The suit opened up at once, and Rhodey gave Tony’s hand one last goodbye-lick before he took stance in its metal case.

"Oh, there’s something else,” Phil said, his face suddenly very serious. “Do not stay at the ball past midnight. On the stroke of twelve, the spell will be broken, and everything will be as it was before.”

“Sure,” Tony said wondrously as the suit magically assembled all around him. It was then, that he noticed that the stains on his cheeks and arms were gone. When he glimpsed at himself on one of the stained mirrors on the walls, he looked… _Oh God_. He’d never looked like this before. The armor fit around him perfectly, making him look like some sort of noble knight, right out of a fairytale. It was much lighter than Tony had expected it to be. Not at all like a bulky, metal suit of armor; its weight was so minimal that it definitely had to be magic. “Thank you,” Tony stammered. “I… thank you so much.”

“You must understand this,” the fairy told him with a serious tone. “If you remain at the ball a minute longer than midnight, everything will return to the way it was before and the suit won’t be able to bring you back home in time.”

“Yeah, okay… stroke of midnight. I get it.”

“Now, off you go,” Phil said and the guy was actually breaking out into song again. This was all so very weird.

He cast his wand at Tony once more, and the suit seemed to be all powering up and then— _oh God_ —and then it took off, flying towards the window, which was really too goddamn small for Iron Man to break through. But then, the stones seemed to all but realign themselves and the next thing Tony knew, he was flying through the night, heading straight towards the royal castle.

“You’re on your way,” the fairy sang behind him, “with a _Dibbidi-dobbidi…_

_…Dibbidi-dobbidi…_

_…Dibbidi-dobbidi-doo…_ ”

 

* * *

 

By the time Tony arrived, the ball was in full swing. The prince himself was apparently already done with his audiences, since he was nowhere to be seen. The people were mingling, royals dancing with townspeople, dukes with needlewomen, and everyone seemed to be having fun.

Tony stared at his surroundings with wide-eyes. The hallway he walked through was _huge_ , both in height and in width, and it was packed with people. There were banners, arms and tapestries decorating the walls, and freshly cut roses that lined every surface available. There were some far-away memories sneaking up on him as he regarded the palace’s golden walls, as if he’d been here once, in a long lost dream, he… just had difficulty placing them.

Completely in awe at the beauty of the prince’s home, Tony stepped out of the shadows and into the great banquet hall. Most people here were dancing in immaculate eveningwear, other’s just lingering all across the room. There was a rush of noise all around him, and Tony smiled as he committed every single thing to memory.

His eyes flew across the crowd, before he just… _stopped_.

His eyes landed on a man at the far side of the hall, and for some reason, their gazes met and… held. The man could only be described as beautifully regal and within a second, Tony was drawn to him like a moth to the flame. His golden hair was luminous, his posture radiant—and fuck, Tony must be losing his mind if he was using these kinds of words, but _good God_ was that man beautiful.

Tony had no idea who he was, probably one of the prince’s noblemen, if his elegant clothing were any indication. The light blue tunic top was a tad too tight around his large shoulders. Tony’s gaze continued downward, to his slimming hips, the white tights he wore leaving little to the imagination. He could see every muscle in his legs as he moved, the material barely concealing him as he turned.

Tony gulped loudly. He’d always been a sucker for white tights—and certainly not only on women.

_Shit_ , he knew he should be making every minute count, search for the prince, tell him about Obi, ask him to choose a different woman, but now… the man’s eyes were fixed on him. From all the way across the room an electrical undercurrent seemed to flow between them and Tony knew he was completely and irrevocably lost.

He had never believed in love at first sight. That was cheesy, and naïve, and an overall childish concept, but… that was exactly what this was, wasn’t it? _God_ , why did this happen now of all times? Tony had to talk to him, he needed to find out what kind of person this man was underneath all that fine clothing, and—

When the man’s eyes dropped to the ground for a moment, Tony took his chance and let his eyes scan his surroundings. He spotted Obi and Zeke not all that far away from him, talking heatedly with each other. Pepper was there, too, speaking with a woman in a black dress, and a heavily jeweled tiara on her head… oh well, that had to be the Queen, right? At that, Tony’s nervousness got the better of him and he decided to make a run for it before anyone noticed him. He crossed the room towards the patio, throwing one last glance in Blond and Beautiful’s direction, before he stepped out into the cold night’s air.

For a moment, Tony paused, dazzled by the royal garden, the fountain, the rockeries and sculptures. There was a narrow path that wound through colorful flowerbeds and full fruit trees, and at the end of it was a small pond, its water blue and glistening under the night sky. At the near edge of the pond sat a little white stone bench.

About five seconds later, mystery-man stepped out into the garden. He looked around almost frantically, and Tony couldn’t help himself anymore. He slowly walked up behind him and whispered in his ear. “Are you enjoying the evening?”

 

* * *

 

“Uh,” was all the man managed to get out. His voice was deep and the sound of it sent a shiver up Tony’s spine. Tony couldn’t take his eyes off of him if he wanted to—or ignore the way his neck suddenly turned a delicious red. “Huh?”

Tony chuckled. He didn’t think he had ever seen a more beautiful creature and he regarded the man’s features as he finally turned around, all but _staring_ at Tony. His skin was like ivory and his hair like spun gold. His light blue dress uniform only made his honeyed complexion glow more and Tony smiled in spite of the pounding in his chest.

“I asked if you’re enjoying the evening,” Tony said, smiling slightly as he reached for the man’s hand, deciding to go for bold and placing a light kiss on the back of it.

“I do,” the man said, then shut his mouth closed as if his answer had been far too eager and sudden. He straightened his shoulders and cleared his throat. “I mean—yes, I’m enjoying it very much, thank you.”

Tony smiled, watching as the guy blushed a bright pink when he looked at him. “I don’t think…” the man started, gulping. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you at court before.”

“No.” Tony held back the chuckle that rushed to his lips, settling for a wide smile instead. “No, I don’t think you have.” He looked around them. Behind them, the ball was still in full swing, and Tony was suddenly feeling the need to be completely alone with Blond and Beautiful. “Show me the garden?”

The man looked at him for a long moment, as if he wanted to ask Tony a million questions and didn’t know where to even start. He seemed a little too lost, a little too overwhelmed, but nodded nevertheless. “Yeah, we should… yeah.”

Tony could hear the sound of water running and turned his head to the left, smiling as he saw a small brook flowing up on the hills. Together, they walked the gardens of the castle, and Tony was honestly amazed at the array of colors of the roses as their scent filled the air.

They walked like that for what felt like forever, until it was just them, no people, no ball—just the moonlight and the pleasant chirping of some crickets. His companion steered him in a specific direction, and he was ready to follow him wherever he wanted to go. Behind a thick canopy of trees lay a very secluded clearing, with poppies and wildflowers growing all over the place.

“I come here often,” the man told him quietly. “Not a lot of people know of this part of the gardens.”

“It’s beautiful, here,” Tony answered, as they eventually neared a large pond with thousands of water lilies. “We have gardens, too, where I come from, but nothing like this. Guess it must’ve been great growing up here.”

“Everything comes at a price,” the man said quietly.

Tony frowned at the comment, but didn’t press for an answer. “You know, if I’d known I’d find such great company tonight, I might’ve snagged one of the maiden’s dresses and asked you for a dance.”

Mystery-man laughed, loud and beautiful, and it made the butterflies in Tony’s stomach take flight. “You would’ve worn a dress just for a dance with me?”

“I have a feeling I would do a lot more for a dance with you.”

He bit his lower lip, contemplating. “We could have a dance right now. No one’s here.”

Secretly having hoped for this to be his answer, Tony took a step towards him, a smile curving his lips. “Would you give me that dance?” Tony asked softly.

There was a pause, and Tony was so close to him now, he felt the man’s breath on his face.

“I’d love to,” he whispered back as Tony led him to the open area next to the pond.

As they took position, they both stared deeply into each other’s eyes and everything else seemed to disappear. Tony swallowed as he stared up at the blonde. It felt as if time itself stopped and they stayed firmly in each other’s grip as they began to dance.

The music from the ball was a faraway-sound and Tony wished the night would go on forever. He had never felt as completely happy as he did at that moment. He had no idea how long they'd been swaying from side to side like this, breathing each other in as they held on to each other. Stars hung heavily in the night sky and a gentle breeze flowed across the garden.

Eventually, though, Blond and Beautiful slowed down, his eyes heavy with sudden sorrow.

“What is it?” Tony asked, worrying that he’d crossed some line or—

“I don’t want to marry,” the man blurted, rubbing a hand over his face. “I mean, I didn’t want to before, but _now_ …” He huffed and stared up at Tony with wide eyes. “Why did you come here now? Why not earlier?”

Tony blinked. At first, the words didn’t make any kind of sense. Who was the guy supposed to marry all over sudden? But then he put two and two together and Tony cursed himself as his breathing started to increase.

He quickly glanced at the ground when his heartbeat began to quicken. _Oh God_ , Blond and Beautiful wasn’t just some nobleman. He was the _prince_.

How could Tony have been so astronomically stupid? Looking at Steve’s uniform, it was all so blatantly clear now. There were all sorts of fancy medals, and even a blue sash with the _goddamn royal sigil_. How could he not have realized that this man was Prince Steven?

He didn’t seem to hide his shock well, because Steve’s face fell into a frown. “What is it?” he asked quietly. “Did I offend you?”

Tony swallowed, his head tilting to the side slightly as he regarded Steve’s form. “No. I just… I never understood why a prince would willingly marry a woman he didn’t know.”

Steve’s expression fell, as did his eyes as he stared at Tony. “This isn’t about what I want. It’s about what my kingdom needs.”

“What,” Tony said chuckling. “The future king of all Midgard can’t do as he pleases? That’s a bit of a bummer.”

Some sort of fond smile crept onto the prince’s face. “Do you always speak your mind so freely?”

Tony shrugged. “I wasn’t raised very well.”

“I had twenty teachers to raise me up properly,” Steve said on an eye roll. “And yet here I am. With you.” He seemed almost proud for a second, and then his look became just… _lost_ , as if he’d only now realized how scandalous the whole thing had been so far: Leaving your engagement-ball to dance with a stranger in the gardens… a _male_ stranger, on top of it all. He glanced back over at Tony and sighed. He seemed to have come to a decision; because then, he drew Tony into his arms and, God, then he pressed their foreheads together, taking a deep breath. “I like being here with you.”

Steve and Tony both stood staring at each other, in some sort of stalemate, with small smiles gracing both of their faces.

Might as well admit it. Tony was probably a bit in love with this guy.

“So… you don’t want to marry?” Tony whispered, and up-close, Steve’s eyes were so blue he was in serious danger of getting lost in them. “Even though you have the most beautiful ladies at your dispense?”

“If I marry, it should be because I am in love,” Steve said with a soft voice.

Tony smiled at the words and raised their joined hands for effect before pressing another kiss on Steve’s palm. Then, he turned towards the stream and walked away.

Steve followed him.

Tony could feel his eyes on him and the thoughts of the prince staring at his backside caused Tony’s rapidly beating heart to hum in his chest. Tony smiled to himself, the dizzy feelings in his head and the fluttering in his stomach returning as he walked along the bank of the small river.

Sitting down on a rock together, Tony looked at Steve for a few moments, a lazy smile playing on his lips. The moonlight trickling through the thick canopy of the trees played across Steve’s features, and made him look even more breathtaking. “You’re a walking cliché, aren’t you, Prince Charming?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “More like a hopeless romantic, or so I’ve been told.”

“I’ve always liked hopeless romantics,” Tony told him softly and put a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “I happen to be one myself.”

Steve tried to hide the smile that curved his lips as he lowered his head, effectively shielding his flushed face. “Yeah?”

Tony’s fingers itched to thread through Steve’s hair—to find out if it was as silky up close as it looked from afar. His hands longed to caress his perfect skin and slowly uncover each and every one of his secrets. His eyes lingered on his beautiful face, wondering how his azure blue eyes might look in the sunlight, trying to imagine if their shade would deepen when aroused.

_Very bad thought._

Unable to contain himself any longer, Tony moved closer to him. Steve’s breathing visibly increased as Tony’s hand that, until now had been resting on his shoulder, lightly ran over the back of his head. The realization that Steve wasn’t pulling away made Tony’s heart beat faster, especially when he moved in Tony’s direction and, oh God, his lips brushed across Tony’s cheek.

It took everything in Tony not to crawl onto Steve’s lap right then and there. He wanted him so much, more than anything else in the world, and he was almost certain Steve wanted him in return.

Their eyes locked, the darkness around them not hindering Tony's sight of Steve’s crystal blue orbs. He let out a small breath of air he hadn’t realized he had been holding in and ran his fingers softly over Steve’s face, smiling as his eyes fluttered closed.

“You won’t have me hanged for treason if I kiss you now, will you, my prince?”

A small smile danced across Steve’s lips and Tony could feel both of their hearts slam against their chests. And before Tony even had time to blink, Steve leaned forward.

“Not an option if I kiss you first,” he whispered.

Tony’s eyes fell shut the minute Steve’s lips touched his. And he had to restrain himself from crushing his body to Steve’s as he felt the first slide of his lips. _Christ_ , he felt Steve’s whole body respond and a small moan left his lips as Steve leaned in further, applying more pressure to the kiss.

It was everything Tony had always been told a first kiss should be. The feel of Steve in his arms, the taste of him and the small unconscious sounds he was making. It was almost too much to take. How his life had suddenly taken this magical turn, Tony did not know. And his breath caught in his throat as he felt Steve’s tongue slide across his lips. The slow movements turned more passionate and a small moan escaped Tony’s throat as Steve’s tongue finally entered his mouth.

The kiss deepened and intensified, and Tony’s mind was lost in the feel of him. The strong muscles moving under his hands, and the intense need Steve was pouring into the kiss had Tony undone.

As Tony pulled back for a breath of air, Steve trailed small kisses across his jaw, along Tony’s goatee and down to his neck. Tony was panting for breath and feelings he had never before experienced flooded his body, as if every nerve ending was on fire.

Eventually, they pressed their foreheads together, inhaling each other’s breath, and Tony was about to open his mouth to say something terribly cheesy, when the goddamn clocktower suddenly began to chime.

 

* * *

 

“Oh fuck,” Tony exhaled, instantly remembering why he had actually come here. He leaned back, staring up at Steve with wide eyes. “It’s midnight.”

Steve blinked, his lips red from kissing and his cheeks deeply flushed. “Yes, it is, but—”

“I have to go.”

Steve’s eyes widened almost comically. “What? You can’t go now. It’s only…”

“I have to, I— _Shit_ , I was supposed to talk to you. It was important. _Fuck_ , how could I— _Fuck_ …”

“What is it?” Steve asked with a dumbfounded expression. “What’s wrong?”

“Look, please don’t marry Pep—uh, the Lady Virginia,” he said urgently. “You can marry whoever you want, of course, but, _please_ , don’t take Pepper.”

Steve frowned with visible confusion. “ _‘Whoever I want?’_ I would never—why are you even asking me this? After everything we just—”

“I don’t have time to explain—look, Stane’s an ass. But _Pepper_ —or Virginia, whatever—is a good person, she’s the best person, and while you, my prince, would be quite the catch, she’s only doing it because Obadiah threatens her family if she doesn’t. She’s madly in love with someone else and if you’re even half the man I think you are, then you won’t take that away from her.”

Steve swallowed thickly. “That’s terrible, I… I would never—What can I—”

The clock chimed again.

“I need to go,” Tony exclaimed hurriedly, already backing away. He could already feel the suit’s plates around his body vibrating, as if the magic would be crumbling in itself any second. He needed to get away from here fast, and he couldn’t very well do it with Steve watching him.

Steve, however, wasn’t easy to shake off. He trailed after Tony though the gardens, trying to grab his hand to pull him back. “Wait… _please_!”

Tony began to run, Steve hot on his heels. They dashed down the winding stairs, away from the sounds of the ball. Tony leaped over the last few steps. “I need to get out of here,” he yelled over his shoulder while they sprinted towards the castle’s gates where no one would see him fly away. “The longer I wait, the harder it will be.”

At the gates, though, Steve grabbed Tony’s shoulders and looked at him with determination. “You don’t have to go. It doesn’t have to be hard at all.”

“But it already is,” Tony told him with large eyes. “We can’t just pretend that things aren’t the way they are. You’re a prince, and I’m…” He shook his head as if to clear it. “Your future princesses are waiting, my prince. Your whole kingdom is waiting. I may not know you well, but I know enough to know that you will always, undoubtedly, do the right thing. And if I stay—God knows what he will do to Pepper, or Rhodey…”

Tony’s heart felt as if it broke in two as he saw the sadness in Steve’s eyes. He knew exactly what he was going to say and wished with all his heart to just kiss him properly and stay in his arms forever. “But I don’t want any of those princesses,” Steve said with a thick voice before he took a step nearer. “I want you.”

Tony shook his head, and _fuck_ , there were goddamn tears in his eyes, weren’t there? “We’ve barely known each other for a few hours…”

Steve smiled wanly. “And _I_ know enough to know that I want you and no one else. I want to be yours forever.”

Tony scoffed. “I’m a man.”

“So? I noticed. I never—I’ve never felt this strongly about anyone. And I know this is sudden, but I want to get to know you. I do.”

“Your kingdom won’t ever accept this. You’re the king. And they will want many very manly heirs from you, come on, you know how this game works. They would never allow us to—”

“Don’t you want me? Because if that’s what this is, I will let you go. I don’t want to force you into anything. But if you _do_ … we’ll find a way. My Council might have prejudices, but they are good people where it counts, and I would do anything to be with you…”

Tony stared up at Steve and while he really needed to leave, he wasn’t able to lie to Steve. Not about something as pure as this. “I want all of that, too, I _do_ —”

The bell rang, and rang, and rang. If Tony didn’t go _right now_ , it would be well past midnight, and after that, he would never make it home in time.

He sighed. It was no use. He had to do this right here. “I really have to go.”

“Please, don’t,” Steve pleaded again.

“Look. It was a dream, okay? A beautiful, beautiful dream, but if I don’t go, people are going to get hurt and I can’t… I need to _go_.” He stepped back at that and fired up the suit’s power.

“But…” Steve’s eyes widened as he watched Tony slowly ascend into the air. “Oh God, I don’t even know your name, wait, _please_ —”

“I’m sorry. God, I’m so sorry.”

Just as Iron Man shot into the air, something clanged and oh _fuck_ , the little glass screwdriver fell down on the ground, right next to Steve’s feet. Tony stared down at it with wide eyes, not knowing what to do or say, before the suit’s helmet shut closed and he flew up into the night sky.


	3. “And this the prince picked up with tender care.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the comments. I hope you enjoy the last chap. <3

  


Steve was staring out of the large window in his chambers, lost in his thoughts.

He still had trouble believing it. His knight was _gone_. How could he be gone? How could he have left after… _God_ , Steve’s lips were still tingling from the kiss they’d shared. The ball was long over and he’d spent the rest of the night alternating between staring numbly out into the garden and trying to figure out how he was going to find a man who had just _flown into the sky_.

How could Steve have forgotten to ask for his name? How could he have possibly let him go?

For the first time in his young life, Steve was in love. It had started as a fear; a sickening realization that these few stolen moments with his knight would be the only ones Steve would have, before he needed to go through with marrying one of the ladies in attendance. The thought had inspired an odd combination of anxiety and determination, and before Steve’s lips had even touched the knight’s, he had known, with deep clarity, that he would give everything to be with him.

After the knight had left, Steve had made a careful circuit all around the castle grounds. He’d known it was fruitless… walking around the gardens a dozens of times. Eventually, he’d let himself accept the fact that there was no one there. There was no sign at all that the knight had ever been with him.

So Steve had climbed the stairs to his chambers. Slowly, like an old and broken man. And he’d sat down by the window, not moving ever since.

For what earthly reason had he allowed the knight to go? He’d fallen in love with him so fast that his departure left Steve completely numb.

And he didn’t even know his name.

Dimly above the sounds of his own thoughts, Steve heard footsteps hurrying down the hallway. His mother knocked softly on Steve’s door, and entered only a moment later. She frowned as she saw him sitting in the armchair next to the windows, still in his uniform.

She shook her head as she sat down on the edge of the chair and took one of his hands in her’s. “I know tonight was hard on you, my dear, but please believe me when I tell you that everything will be fine.”

Steve didn’t have the strength to argue with her as he continued to stare out the window. He could already see the sun lighting the sky in hues of purple and orange, and he sighed before turning his head. “Can you leave me alone?” he asked her softly. “I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but I’m not in the right mind to talk about the evening.”

“Is this about the young man you followed into the garden?”

Steve blinked and stared at his mother. _That_ , he had not been expecting.

“What?” she asked and smiled knowingly. “A mother sees things, my dear. And I saw the way you were looking at him. Was he a knight?”

“Mother…”

“What is his name?”

Steve sighed in defeat. “I don’t _know_. I was so caught up with meeting him, I never asked. When I tried, he ran off.” His shoulders sagged. “How could I forget to ask for his name?”

“You were smitten,” his mother said with a gentle smile and patted his shoulder. “Sweetheart, you could have told me, you know? I would’ve understood and supported you. We both know these kinds of affairs, well… usually happen behind closed doors, but it doesn’t have to be that way for you. I won’t say that it will be easy, but… I would’ve understood.”

Steve swallowed hard and stared at her vacantly for a few seconds. There was a silent plea in her warm, loving eyes. The sincerity there made Steve feel foolish for ever doubting her. “I didn’t really know, or… I mean… I like girls, too, I just—I don’t know. It was different with him.”

“He was a special man, then?”

Steve felt himself blushing. “Yeah.” He bit his lower lip. And now, he faced the possibility of having lost him forever; the possibility that he had to return to his former barren existence. “I will never see him again, will I?”

He had tried to block out the thought all night, but it still came. The knight had flown into the night sky and out of Steve’s life for good.

“Well, what do you know of him?”

“He seems to be a friend of the Lady Virginia. And… he lost this,” Steve said, taking out the little glass screwdriver. He’d been staring at it all night, trying to unlock its secrets, but nothing was forthcoming. There was an anvil depicted on the round end of the handle. Steve had mulled over various houses with this kind of sigil, but came up empty.

Sarah frowned. “Is that a tool?”

“I think so, yes.”

She turned the screwdriver back and forth between her fingers. Her eyes lingered on the anvil as well, but the little sound that left her lips right then made it perfectly clear that the emblem held no meaning for her, either.

“It’s not a sigil of the noble houses, is it?” Steve asked her.

She shook her head, sorrow in her eyes. “No, my dear. I’m afraid I’ve never seen it before.”

“That’s because it hasn’t been in use for over a decade,” a voice said. When Steve turned around, he saw Jarvis standing in the doorway, his widened eyes fixed on the little glass screwdriver.

He walked closer slowly, a little limp in his walk that he compensated by leaning a little further to the left side.

“Your Majesty, may I?” he asked and gave a little bow while taking the screwdriver from Sarah’s hands. He held it in his palm as if it was something precious, and when Steve looked up at him, he saw a small tear running down the old man’s wrinkled cheek.

“Jarvis?” Steve prompted with a soft voice. “Do you know what this is?”

“It’s King Howard’s sigil, Sire,” Jarvis answered after a long moment. “I haven’t seen it in years…”

Steve frowned and glanced down on the glass handle. “The anvil? But the king’s sigil had been a crowned sword.”

“After the Starks ascended the throne, yes.” Jarvis’ voice was awed. “The anvil had been the Stark’s sigil for generations before, and these glass tools had been a heirloom of Master Howard’s great-grandfather. It was his most precious token.”

“What does that mean?” Steve asked urgently.

“I have no idea, Sire,” Jarvis said, frowning.

His mother leaned forward. “Lord Stane said Howard’s personal belongings had been brought back to Stark—I mean— _Stane_ Castle. Maybe your boy stole them?”

Steve willed down the heat that rushed to his cheeks at that, but Jarvis only cast him a small knowing smile.

“No, it belonged to him,” Steve answered after a moment, remembering the devastated look in the knight’s face as the tool had fallen down on the ground. “I could see it in his eyes…”

A shadow fell over mother’s face at that. “How old was he?” she whispered.

“I don’t know,” Steve said. “Twenty, maybe? I couldn’t be sure.”

She only stared at the floor in what had to be pure shock.

“What is it, mother?”

She shook her head and then began to pace back and forth across the room. “I don’t know, it’s just a sudden feeling, nothing I should be giving voice to.”

“It’s just us, mother. _What is it?_ ”

“The royal family died fifteen years ago. Prince Anthony had been four, then. That would make him nineteen today.”

At that, Jarvis set down heavily on Steve’s bed—something he would _never_ do under normal circumstances. “Oh Lord,” he breathed.

Now it was Steve’s turn to freeze in complete shock. He had no idea what to say—or what to _think_.

He found his mind wandering back to the night before. When he closed his eyes, he could almost feel the knight nibbling at his lips, threading his metal fingers through Steve’s hair. He remembered how his body had trembled wherever Steve had touched him. His features were embedded in Steve’s mind; every dip, every curve, every imperfection held dear. And now that he wasn’t so utterly dazed by the knight’s proximity, he could admit that… his features were vaguely familiar.

The royal palace was full with portraits of King Howard, and there was even—

Steve’s legs almost gave out on him as he stumbled towards his chamber’s door. He could hear his mother trailing behind him, calling out his name, as he made his way across the hall, searching, searching and… _there_.

The only group-portrait of the royal family.

Steve stared right into little Prince Anthony’s brown eyes and… there wasn’t even a flicker of doubt in Steve’s mind. He looked into those deep brown orbs, at the tousled black hair, the cheeky smile and the little pointed nose, and he _knew_ , with deep clarity, that this was _his_ knight.

 _His prince,_ Steve blinked as realization dawned on him. His _king_. The rightful heir to the throne of Midgard.

“Anthony,” he said quietly, trying out the sound of his name, and found himself smiling.

“Steve,” his mother whispered, as she walked up behind him. “It’s just a suspicion, we need more time to find proof and debate this with our Council—”

“Do you think Lord Stane knows? If it’s true… if the prince lives, would he have known?”

His mother remained quiet for a long moment. “I would think so. He was Howard’s closest confidant. If his son had survived the accident, Lord Stane would have known. He must have.”

“Then we don’t have time for debates.” If word went out that Anthony’s identity had been revealed, his life would be in great danger. Did he even know about his birthright?

Steve hurried back towards his chamber, grabbing the sheath to his sword and fastening it around his waist.

Jarvis was regarding his movements with thoughtful eyes, still cradling the screwdriver in his hands. “I’ve never… seen the bodies,” he said quietly after a moment. “I never asked to see them. I couldn’t… But there were three coffins. If I had known that Master Anthony had survived, I would’ve…”

“This isn’t your fault, Jarvis. It’s Stane’s.”

Jarvis shook his head vehemently. “I always wondered about Lord Stane’s new inventions. He was a brilliant man, but never like his Majesty, _never_ … and all these marvelous new machines that appeared after that terrible accident… so many, and none of them bore Stane’s signature. I…” He heaved a broken sob and Steve instantly stepped forward to pull him into a hug. “I knew they couldn’t be Stane’s. I _knew_ it. But I never… there was the war, and your family needed me, Sire. After your father died, I could’ve never just _left_ you—”

Steve felt his heart break at the old man’s words. He pulled him closely and pressed a kiss on his forehead. “It’s something that can still be amended, my friend. I promise I will get him back.”

Next to them, Steve saw his mother look down at them with teary eyes. “If all this is true, he is the rightful heir to the throne. The Stark’s support in the Kingdom has always been great. You haven’t been crowned yet and he… he…”

Steve smiled knowingly, standing up and taking his mother’s hand in his. “And he will be a wonderful king. And if…” He knew he was blushing, but he figured at this point both Jarvis and his mother knew exactly how he felt. “If he feels like I do, it doesn’t matter which one of us will wear the crown. And if he doesn’t, well,” Steve shrugged. “I’ll be very happy to join his guard and protect him until my dying day.”

Sarah smiled, cupping Steve’s cheek. “You’ve grown up so fast, my dearest son.”

Steve returned her smile, then straightened his back. “I’ll summon the royal guard. We’ll ride for Stane Castle. I’m sure we’ll find him there.” Steve pulled up his favorite round shield and set it down on the holder on his back. As he reached the doorway, Jarvis’ voice halted him.

“Sire, if I’m allowed to speak freely?”

“Of course,” Steve said, turning around with a raised brow.

Jarvis smiled and held up the screwdriver, laying it in Steve’s hand. “When it comes to Lord Stane… the direct way isn’t necessarily the best one.”

“I have to get him out of there,” he told Jarvis as he sheathed his sword.

Jarvis smiled with that proud look of his, and laid a frail hand on Steve’s shoulder. “And you’re going to do just that,” he agreed. “You’re just going to have to do it a little more… subtly.”

 

* * *

 

When Tony heard the locks on the door click open, he looked up from where he sat with Rhodey on his makeshift bed on the floor of his workshop. Standing quickly, his mouth opened to tell Obadiah _exactly_ what he thought of all this and it fell closed when he saw that it was Zeke instead.

“Ah, Tones, I hope your new accommodations agree with you,” he said, smiling as he entered. “We had so little time to plan.”

“Why do I have to stay here?” Tony asked as he took a step towards the door. Only a few days after the ball, Obi had thrown some dirty blankets and a hay-filled cushion at him and demanded that he sleep in his workshop at the top of the tower from now on, since his chambers were otherwise in use.

At first, Tony had feared that Obi had somehow found out about his little trip to the royal castle, but he’d never said anything, so Tony figured it had to be something else.

“So you don’t enjoy our hospitality?” Zeke asked with that sly smile of his.

“ _Hospitality?_ ” Tony questioned with wide eyes. “Your sick father locked me up here for days and you expect me to be having a good time?! There isn’t even proper water-supply! I have a goddamn bucket and some toilet soap. You people are seriously disturbed!”

Zeke walked further into the room and shoved a piece of paper in Tony’s hand. It was a short message—from the royal family.

Tony’s eyes flew over the written lines. The prince was… _what??_

“The prince is marrying Pepper! He’ll be arriving soon!” Zeke announced giddily, almost bouncing as he looked out the window. And true to his words, there was a large group of horses in the far distance. They were riding towards the castle, with the royal banner held up high.

“Father said not to tell you, but I wagered you would want to know. Seems we’ll all be moving to court, soon. I’m sure father will find a suitable cell in the servant’s dormitories for you and your…” Zeke looked at the various half-finished inventions lying on the cold stone ground. “…stuff.”

Tony turned, forcing back any sort of emotion that would give him away. He looked out of the window and a frown marred his face as he watched the royal entourage coming closer.

_Why did you come here, Steve?_

 

* * *

 

Stane Castle loomed in the distance, and the sounds of the horses’ hooves trampling the hardened grounds rang out through the air as Steve and his knights approached.

Steve’s mind was a tangled mass of worry. He had seen his mother’s concerned face as he had mounted his horse and he knew she must be fearing the worst. Their plan was easy enough, and Steve had to admit that it was better than to just storm Stane’s castle with the whole royal army at once.

He just needed to find Anthony in time, before their ploy was uncovered.

“You alright?” Bucky asked as he rode easily beside Steve.

“Yeah, fine,” Steve said, not taking his eyes off their destination.

“You don’t look fine.”

Steve’s shoulders sagged heavily, and he glanced over at his friend before he gave him a little smile. “Just not sure about the outcome,” he told him. “If I do manage to somehow find the prince, I’m not even sure if he’ll be happy to see me.”

Bucky laughed quietly to himself while shaking his head. “I still can’t believe you had a _whole hall_ full of beautiful ladies, and fell for a guy who’s going to take your throne away. No one could’ve pulled that off, Stevie. _No one_.”

Surprisingly enough, Bucky and the other knights had taken the news well. They’d been taken aback a bit, maybe, but once they’d wrapped their heads around the fact that it was a guy Steve had finally lost his heart to, they seemed more pleased than anything else. And they were willing to help Steve find Anthony, for which he would always be grateful.

“One should think you would have learned who you’re laughing at, by now,” Steve said, trying to look serious.

“Oh, you’re going to pull rank on me now?” Bucky laughed. “Well, have fun with it while you still can, _Lord Rogers_.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “If Anthony feels the way I hope he does, the crown doesn’t matter. And if we manage to convince the Council, I might become king after all.”

“Lord help us all,” Natasha muttered as she paced her horse with Bucky’s. “Is he talking marriage? Voluntarily?”

Bucky nodded with a grave expression. “The world must be coming to an end.”

Steve laughed quietly, smiling at his friends. “You’re the worst, you know that?”

They both smiled at him. “Only because we love you.”

 

* * *

 

Tony watched as Steve’s knights approached, not knowing what to think of all this. Had Steve truly decided to marry Pepper, even after all that had happened between them? Even after Tony had told him that Pepper was in love with someone else? Or—and Tony dared not to hope—was he coming for Tony?

The kiss they’d shared had been magnificent, groundbreaking, _world changing_ … at least for Tony. The word _love_ was terrifying, but it did not change how he felt.

He could hear Obi’s household making last preparations in the garden where they would hold the engagement festivities. Their shouts and yells could be heard echoing across the castle’s hallways and a scurry of servants could be seen on the courtyard below. Pepper and Obi were seated underneath a pavilion in the middle of the garden and even from afar, Tony could see Pepper’s distraught face.

The anticipation was making Tony’s heart race in his chest as Zeke continued to talk about his wonderful future at the royal court. Tony tried to tune him out completely, he really did, but the constant babble was beginning to wear thin on his nerves.

As the royal entourage finally approached the castle, Tony smiled as he finally spotted Steve. His eyes were fixated on him and his heart soared in his chest. _He came_ , he thought to himself as his eyes drank him in. It didn’t even matter why anymore; just seeing him again had Tony’s breath caught in his throat.

Obi and his guards greeted Steve midway, and the fanfare horns were deafening as the festivities in the gardens began. As hard as Tony tried, keeping track of Steve throughout the next hours—even from all the way up here—was almost impossible. The flurry of activity below was a little dizzying, and the longer he had to watch Steve flirt with Pepper, the more worried he became.

 

* * *

 

Lord Stane smiled before he walked up to greet Steve. He could see dark joy etched across the man’s face and Steve wished more than anything he could beat it right off him.

“Your Majesty,” Stane said, smiling as he took Steve’s hand and bowed. “It’s a great honor to welcome you to my home… especially under these joyful circumstances. I do pray your trip was pleasant?”

“As pleasant as it could be,” Steve answered him.

“Yes, I suppose now that our houses will join, I might as well do some work on that main road.”

Steve forced a smile onto his face. “That would probably be best. Lady Virginia,” Steve greeted Pepper and took her hand to kiss the back of it. “I’m very happy to see you again.”

Her eyes were filled with unshed tears, but she smiled bravely and curtsied. “So am I, your Majesty.”

Steve tried to catch her eyes as Lord Stane led him towards the courtyard, to give her some sort of sign that he hadn’t come here to make her unhappy. But she never once looked back, far too lost in her sadness. He had to trust Natasha to deliver the message in time, then. If he wanted to find Anthony in this huge castle, he needed help, and Pepper was his only chance.

The whole household seemed to be present in the gardens. They approached Steve and took his hand, complimented the entry and his uniform, and then moved on towards the sound of the orchestra playing in the parlor. Steve stood at Pepper’s side the whole time, and while she was a wonderful woman, it was getting harder each hour to play the part of a lovesick man.

In the next hours, Steve continued to nod and smile, greet the faceless multitude of strangers, feeling very much like the imposter he was. His annoyance at the situation was only increasing; he hadn’t come here to wine and dine.

He needed to find his prince.

As soon as the festivities were in full swing and Stane had consumed enough wine, barely able to sit straight anymore, Steve and Bucky walked up to where Pepper and Natasha were currently talking quietly.

“You need to hurry,” Pepper said without preliminaries, when she noticed Steve approaching. The heartbroken expression that had been so prominent on her face before was completely gone now, and replaced with fierce determination.

“That eager not to marry me, huh?” Steve said, and received Pepper’s first genuine smile in return.

She pointed toward the castle’s southern tower. “Tony should be up there. Obadiah locked him up in his workshop.”

“Does he know?” Steve asked. “Who he is?”

“No,” Pepper said. “No. He would’ve told me. And you’re really sure about this? Telling him something like this, only for him to find out that he isn’t—”

“I’m sure,” Steve said with conviction. “It’s my crown that’s on the line here, right? Do you think I would just hand it over if I wasn’t sure?”

Pepper regarded him for a long moment, and whatever she saw in his eyes seemed to convince her of his honesty. “Go, then. You won’t have much time.”

Steve nodded, glancing up to the tower one final time, before he ran into the castle. Bucky and Natasha followed, and the noise of the festivities rang in their ears.

 

* * *

 

“Did they just look up here?” Zeke asked.

Tony was only half-listening as he continued to stare down to where Steve and two of his knights had just entered the castle. They had _definitely_ looked up here. Tony had seen the look on Steve’s face, and now there was no doubt in his heart anymore.

Steve was coming for _him_.

Obi seemed completely unaware of what was happening and Tony felt a giddiness rushing through him.

“What’s going on here?” Zeke yelled, and— _right_ , Tony probably shouldn’t be smiling all that brightly.

“Let me go,” he said urgently, walking past Zeke, but then, he suddenly felt a hand come to rest on his waist, pulling him back with a harsh movement. Tony gasped and turned to Zeke quickly. “Get your godamned hands off me!” he yelled as he slapped at Zeke’s hand and moved back away from him. Rhodey had sprung to his feet immediately, growling and snapping in Zeke’s direction. “You can’t keep me in here forever, Zeke. Just let me go.”

“Who do you think you are?” Zeke asked with a grim expression. He only cast Rhodey a fleeting glance, as he took a step towards Tony. “You will never give me orders! We _own_ you!”

“You never owned me!” Tony spat. “Just because Obi rescued me doesn’t mean he can control me forever.”

“ _Rescued_ you.” Zeke laughed hysterically. “God, for a genius, you’re really stupid. He just didn’t kill you, too, when he could have!”

There were so many emotions running through Tony, he wasn’t even sure which one to act on first. Anger and disgust were the most prominent, as was total confusion over what Zeke was talking about. _Kill him, too?_ As anger finally won over, his fingers curled into his palm and, with every ounce of strength he could find after days of practically no food, he struck.

Zeke stumbled back with a loud groan as Tony’s fist connected with his jaw. Raising a hand and running it over the stinging flesh, Zeke shouted loudly, “You’re no one! You’re dirt! And you will _never_ become king!”

“Have you completely lost it now?” Tony asked, then looked at Rhodey. “Come on, bud. We’re going.”

“Anthony!” Tony heard Steve’s voice echoing in the hallways beneath and his heart leapt in his chest.

“Steve,” he yelled back and tried to pull the latch on the door, only to find it locked once more. As he jerked and pulled, Zeke’s laughter caught his attention.

“Looking for this?” Zeke asked, grinning from where he was lying on the floor. “No way out, Tones,” he said as he held up the key. Straightening, Zeke turned his head to the side, spitting his own blood from his mouth where Tony had just hit him. And then he pulled something from his pants that did look a lot like one of the guns Tony had built for Obi.

“You do know you will pay for that, don’t you?” Zeke asked as he pointed it to Tony’s head.

Tony glanced at the Iron Man armor on the far side of the room before he cast Zeke a wolfish grin. “Well, I guess you can try.”

 

* * *

 

Steve, Natasha and Bucky had been running through the castle for what felt like an eternity, pausing at every large corridor. There were guards everywhere and Steve was not sure what to make of all this. They scanned the next hallway for movements before turning to look at each other.

“At this pace, we won’t make it up there before Stane notices we’re gone,” Bucky said, panting slightly for breath.

“Split up or stay together, Sire?” Natasha asked.

“I’d say split up, but—” Steve’s words were cut short as he heard someone scream in the floor above their heads. And before they knew what was happening, there were shouts all around the castle, and guards came running in their direction.

Bucky turned his head, and before he could even open his mouth, Steve was running. “Stay together then,” he mumbled as he took off down the hall after Steve.

“Anthony!” Steve yelled loudly. Fear was replaced with insane fury as he ran down the long corridor. Tony’s shouts were muffled and Steve’s imagination ran wild at the possibilities of what was happening to him. He could faintly hear the many footfalls on the stone floor behind them and the sound of his heart beat loudly in his ears.

As they arrived at the tower’s entrance, Steve looked up to the stairs, as a deep, strangled scream carried along the corridor. “Anthony,” he whispered.

“Go to him,” Bucky said as he looked over at Natasha. “We’ll hold them back.”

Natasha nodded. “The rest of the knights will be here shortly, Sire. Don’t worry. _Go_.”

Steve ran.

 

* * *

 

The sight that greeted Steve when he rammed his shield right into the door’s lock and let it crash onto the floor on the other side was not… exactly… what he had expected.

Anthony was standing in the middle of the room, facing Steve. He was wearing the same kind of armor he had on when they’d met in the garden. The helmet was on, the eye slits giving it an almost grim look. The armor looked slightly different than Steve remembered—a bit bulkier maybe, and the little light in the chest piece wasn’t shining just as brightly as he remembered.

But it was still _his_ knight. He knew it was.

There was a man lying at the knight’s feet, and with the tousled dark brown hair, Steve had to take a longer look before he recognized him as Ezekiel, Stane’s son. He was clearly unconscious and didn’t even so much as move as a huge black dog draped itself across his body, pinning him to the floor. The dog looked up at Steve when he entered, snarling a little with flattened ears.

“Good boy,” Steve said with a hopefully calm tone, as he approached. “Anthony?”

The armor’s helmet tilted slightly to the side as he regarded Steve. “It’s Tony, actually,” he supplied, and while his voice was a bit subdued through the heavy metal helmet, it was definitely _him_.

The rush of relief that came crashing over Steve’s mind was so potent it nearly knocked him off his feet. A soft sound left his lips. “I was so worried…” he whispered, and up-close Steve could even see his beautiful brown eyes glinting through the helmet’s eye slits. “Can you…” he said as he came to a stop in front of the knight. “Can you take this off?”

The dog was still growling lowly, but seemed to wait for Tony’s reaction, for now.

As did Steve.

“Yeah, about that,” Tony said after a moment, and cleared his throat. “I would if I could, really, but… I kinda forgot that this isn’t the fairy-godfather-version of the armor, but the actual-still-not-finished version, and… I’m kind of stuck without my tools, which… Obi has kindly taken away before locking me up here.”

Steve let this sink in for a second, before a probably wide and goofy smile spread all over his face. He pushed a hand into the jacket of his uniform, and held up the little glass screwdriver.

“That yours?” he asked gently.

Tony went very quiet, and while Steve couldn’t see him, he knew he was probably as nervous as Steve was. Eventually, he raised a hand and silently pointed one of the metal fingers towards the little circle of light in the armor’s chest piece. When Steve took a closer look, he spotted a little opening in the casing that seemed to be holding the various pieces together.

“I would make a joke about how you have the key to my heart,” Tony murmured, “but the chest plate is kinda dented and probably killing me as we speak so—”

“ _Oh_ ,” Steve exhaled with wide eyes and hurriedly put the screwdriver into the opening and turned it around. A loud whirring noise echoed across the room as various parts from the armor moved out of the way, revealing…

 _God_ , Steve thought with big eyes—memory really hadn’t done his prince justice.

“I know I must look ugly,” Tony said, shuffling uncomfortably on his feet when the armor had finally disassembled, leaving him almost bare, with only a few rags for clothing. “Obi didn’t really care for my personal hygiene when he locked me up here.” And true enough, there were smudges all over Tony’s face, and he looked worn and tired, and clearly hadn’t been fed properly in those last days.

“You look even more beautiful than I remembered,” Steve whispered, and then he couldn’t hold back anymore. He stepped forward and all but crushed the man to his chest. Immediately, Tony threw his arms around Steve’s neck as he enveloped him in his arms.

“About time you made it here,” Tony huffed after a long moment, but his voice was full of little tremors.

“Well, you weren’t exactly forthcoming with information,” Steve said with a smile and leaned back a little. Tony stared up at him, as Steve cupped his cheeks in both hands. “Hello, my prince.”

Tony snorted. “Shouldn’t that be my line, _your Majesty?_ ”

Steve shook his head, brushing the tip of his nose along Tony’s. _Well, here goes nothing,_ he thought belatedly and took a long breath. “Yeah, about that…” he started, and then, Steve told him everything. He told him about his parents, his true birthright. He told him what little he knew of the night the royal family had died. He told him of his suspicions of Stane’s involvement in the king’s death. He told him how it was _Tony’s_ throne, and not Steve’s.

And in return, Tony told him—though not in the detail it required, Steve understood—about the years Stane had Tony locked up in here. How he had taken Tony’s inventions and presented them as his own. How alone he had been, and how utterly hopeless.

Steve knew there was a lot more to Tony’s past. Stane’s abuse must have left deep marks, but Steve was willing to discover each and every one of them. He wanted to learn everything there was to know about his prince, and he knew—they’d have all the time in the world to do so now.

Eventually, Steve pulled back, before kissing Tony’s forehead. “Are you okay?” he asked, quietly.

Tony nodded and gave him a small, warm smile. “Thank you for coming for me,” he said.

“Always,” Steve promised. Relief flooded his body and he sagged against Tony as his fears finally left him.

Tony smiled brightly as he ran his hand over the back of Steve’s head and pulled him closer. A smile curved Steve’s lips as he brought his arms up and wrapped them around Tony’s neck in return. “Marry me,” he said as he clung to him.

“What?” Tony asked with a chuckle. “You can’t be serious—”

“Marry me,” Steve repeated as he pulled Tony closer and buried his face in his neck.

“Oh, admit it. You just don’t want to lose your crown, you freeloader.”

“Yeah, you got me there,” Steve said. “Is that a yes?”

Tony laughed as Steve peppered kisses all over his face. “Yes,” he told him without hesitation. “But we should probably return to the castle first. I think your people are waiting for a king.”

“Or two,” Steve supplied, making Tony grin.

“Or two,” he agreed. He leaned in, pressing his lips against Steve’s for a second. "Don’t suppose we can pretend we already did all that and skip straight to the wedding night?"

Steve laughed heartily, shaking his head. “No,” he said, laughing. “You’ll just have to wait.”

Tony whined. “You can’t possible expect me to wait now.”

“We have to go home first. No matter how incredibly gorgeous you are.”

“Gorgeous, you say?” Tony asked, grinning wildly. “Why Prince Steven, I’m scandalized.”

Steve chuckled and ducked his head.

“And here I thought you just need me to rule over your kingdom,” Tony joked.

“Oh I do,” Steve said quickly, “But I also want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Tony laughed. “Well, what do you say, lets go and plan us a wedding then?”

Steve looked at him before he gave Tony a lingering kiss. “We can do that,” he said, pulling back from him slightly. “But first I’m in the mood to bask a little.”

“ _Bask?_ ” Tony asked, raising one eyebrow. “Wherever did you learn to talk like that?”

“Uh, you know,” Steve answered, “I _was_ raised to be a king.”

Tony nodded solemnly. “Well, that clearly has to stop now. You’re way too sophisticated for a peasant like me.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Just shut up and kiss me.”

“As you wish, my king,” Tony said, laughing. “As you wish.”

They kissed for what felt like forever, until someone cleared his throat. Very loudly, and very pointedly. Steve eventually turned his head, looking over to the door where about ten people were standing, including Bucky, Natasha, Thor and half of his king’s guard.

Great. He's _never_ living this down.

“Didn’t realize we had an audience,” Tony said, chuckling a bit nervously.

“Your Majesty– _ies_ ,” one of the knights said with a confused frown. “Lord Stane has been taken care of.”

Bucky grinned almost manically. “I think there should be a suitable cell in the tower at home, don’t you think, Stevie?”

Steve returned his grin. Then he turned his head back to the door, nodding once at Natasha before she turned towards the knight who had spoken. “All right, boys, gather the remaining men and wait out front,” she said, and Steve watched as his knights nodded their heads and turned to leave.

 

* * *

 

_Some weeks later._

 

“There,” his mother said, smiling as she sat down the crown on top of Steve’s head. It was a smaller version of the crown he usually wore for important ceremonies like this, but Steve didn’t mind it one bit.

The king’s crown was right where it belonged.

Steve looked back up with a smile he couldn’t seem to wipe off his face before he stood and walked to the door. “Do I look alright?” he asked quietly, turning back to his mother as he waited for her to answer.

“You look like a king,” she said, chuckling as Steve’s smile widened. “Now go get yourself a husband.”

As Steve walked out of his room and headed towards the big hall, his heart was already fluttering in anticipation. It had been worth it. The stress of the past few weeks, the hundreds of meetings with his Council, the dread of their possible refusal that had threatened to rob Steve of his happiness—it had all been worth it. The moment the Council had given their reluctant consent to their marriage, Steve had been floating among the clouds. And there were still times when he had difficulty finding enough air to feed his lungs.

It hadn’t been easy getting where they were now. After bringing Tony home with him, there had been the long and exhausting matter of dealing with his rehabilitation as the true heir to throne of Midgard. Tony had no actual proof of being who he was, and while all the evidence was in favor of Tony’s claim, it took Stane’s ultimate confession to take all doubts off the table.

It had also taken a while for Tony to settle in at court. He wasn’t used to being surrounded by hundreds of people all day. He wasn’t used to making hard decisions, of declining people what they wanted. But _good Lord_ , did he learn fast. Steve knew, undoubtedly, that Tony would become a truly great king. The people already loved him—his charm, his humor, his kindness. He was everything Steve had always wished in a partner, and Tony… he was giving so much of himself. With his inventions, he had single-handedly revolutionized the daily life of all of their citizens. And Steve couldn’t be prouder.

Of course, he was also mouthing off at the Council almost every day, not much caring for etiquette, but Steve figured there was always room for improvement.

For the first time, the royal castle felt whole—felt like it was truly Steve’s. Truly _theirs_.

The walk to the hall seemed to take forever and every step had Steve’s heart beating faster. As he reached the gate leading to the large open area that held what looked like hundreds of people, Steve stopped and took in the scene.

Brightly colored flowers seemed to cover every surface and their fragrant smell wafted through the air. Small twinkling lights hovered above everything and what looked like tiny stars glistening at the ceiling were actually hundreds of candles that offered their light to illuminate the hall.

Laughter was heard coming from everywhere and when Steve searched the crowd for Tony, it didn’t take him long to find him. Bucky had told him how the court ladies had taken a fascination in Tony and off to Steve’s right, he saw him, surrounded by at least a dozen of young girls.

The giggles he could hear from them had Steve smiling. Tony was wearing the same dress uniform as Steve, only his colors were red and gold, while Steve was wearing a light blue.

Tony was saying something to the ladies that had them giggle even louder. Then he glanced up at Steve, and a smile curved his lips as he looked him up and down. And if Steve lived another hundred years, he’d never tire of Tony looking at him like that.

Steve tried to calm his breathing as Tony finally approached with an almost predatory stride. “We gotta stop meeting like this,” he told Steve as he reached out and kissed the palm of Steve’s hand, just like he had done the first time they’d met.

“Never,” Steve answered and pulled him in for a lingering kiss.

 

* * *

 

It ended as it had started.

Steve lay in his favorite clearing in the royal gardens, behind a canopy of pine trees and in-between Millions of flowers. He took out his sketchpad and started to draw.

He had always loved the scent of untouched paper. Loved those fresh beginnings, the new starts. Loved what it represented—that silent promise of hope. The first strokes were always something special, especially when Steve’s inspiration came in the form of his beautiful, and very naked husband.

Steve smiled, and couldn’t help himself as he ran the end of his pencil all the way down Tony’s spine. He could look at his body for hours—inhaling his scent, dragging his fingers across his bare flesh. The first year of their marriage had been a sea of passion—a whirlwind that had yet to stop.

Tony was sprawled across the green grass—and _God_ , he was a vision. He was now ruffled where Jarvis had spent a good time grooming him, and wild where he’d once been primped.

And he wanted Steve. Always. In places that made Steve blush and in ways that still left him stammering. These days, it took little more than a suggestive wink from Tony, and Steve’s skin _burned_.

A sleepy yawn dragged Steve’s attention back to Tony’s face. He blinked blearily, the hand that had rested next to his face searching the grass beside him until his brown eyes opened up and locked with Steve’s. A slow, wicked smile stretched his lips. One that had Steve’s insides tingling and his blood rushing south all at once.

“Did I nod off?” Tony murmured, his voice rugged. “And what are you doing all the way over there?”

Steve barely sat two feet away from him. “Drawing,” he replied with a fond smile.

“Anything special?”

“Yeah,” he said. “You.”

“Oh. While I sleep?” Tony grinned wickedly. “Scandalous, my King. _Scandalous_.”

Steve batted a hand, his cheeks warming. “You say that about everything we do.”

“Yeah, well, I think that the Council would agree with me.”

“The Council can kiss my ass.”

Tony blinked, his face completely freezing. Then, he started laughing. Loudly. “Oh my God,” he hiccupped. “Steven!”

Steve let the sounds of Tony’s beautiful laughter wash over him as he dropped his sketchpad and crawled over to Tony’s naked form.

“All the fairytales about Prince Charming have been wrong,” Tony told him with a wicked smile. “We have to tell the bards and poets.”

“I’ll be sure to leave them a note.”

Tony’s grin stretched wider as Steve pulled himself onto his forearms, and his eyes were unashamedly roaming the length of his body.

By now, Tony had probably explored every bit of him with his hands and tongue; there was nothing about Steve he hadn’t seen and touched. And even knowing that, Steve couldn’t help but blush when Tony drank him in like that.

“I love you,” Steve said then, his eyes open and wide. “I love you so much.”

“And I love you,” Tony said as he leaned up to press a soft kiss on Steve’s.

Steve had never thought he would hear anyone say those words to him and really mean it, but he knew Tony did. He could see it in his eyes.

As they lay there, basking in the glow of their love, they both had matching smiles etched across their faces. What had started out as an accidental meeting at night had left both of them with what they desperately wanted: Someone to love and have their feelings returned without question.

_And they lived happily ever after._


End file.
